


sweet dreams

by hanthelibrarian



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Consensual Somnophilia, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Married Sex, Mostly porn, Porn with Feelings, Smut, Somnophilia, Trans Male Character, Trans Mike Hanlon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 16:41:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28923738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanthelibrarian/pseuds/hanthelibrarian
Summary: Something drops in his gut and Mike has to hold back a moan. They’d talked about this before, Mike fucking Bill as he struggles to stay awake, fucking him as he’s asleep. There was just something so arousing about Bill trusting him while he’s barely conscious, vulnerable, unfocused and something even more arousing at the thought of continuing on, seeking his own release as Bill sleeps. His grip tightens uncontrollably before he catches himself; if this is going to happen, he needs to be careful. Bill needs to stay sleepy, stay comfortable, stay just on the edge of consciousness without anything jarring him, drawing him back into the state he was in mere minutes ago. He has to stay sleepy so no gripping, no biting, not rough movements. Mike needs to keep his touch calming, more caresses than grasps.
Relationships: Bill Denbrough/Mike Hanlon
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	sweet dreams

**Author's Note:**

> don't perceive me please

Bill is sitting at his heavy oak desk, books strewn across its surface, across the floor around it, as he types away on his laptop. He’s writing a new novel, one that requires quite a lot of research, hence the books. He’s flipping through the book closest to his left hand, mumbling under his breath as he searches for the right information. He flips faster and faster as he gets closer to what he wants, letting out a small sound of victory when he finds it. He goes back to his laptop, fingers flying over the keyboard with a practiced speed. 

Mike watches him from the doorway, entranced by the concentration and determination he can see in Bill’s body language. He isn’t rigid but he’s tense, as if something big is right around the corner. He’s on a roll; Mike knows this, and he hates to interrupt when Bill gets like this. He knows how hard it can be to find that inspiration, that spark, especially when what he’s working on is so important to him. But it’s long past midnight and Bill got up early this morning to get started. Mike steadies himself, approaching the desk with caution, not wanting to pull Bill out of his groove too soon. 

Just as he’s about to lay a hand on Bill’s blanket-clad shoulder, Bill lets out a content sigh and shuts his laptop after saving. When he turns around and faces Mike, there is no surprise on his face, just a soft smile that betrays how tired Bill is. 

“Were you coming to rescue me from the wiles of my writing?” Bill laughs quietly, hands coming up to rest on Mike’s hips, the blanket falling from his shoulders. 

Mike hums and bends down to kiss the graying hairs that are a mess atop Bill’s head. “I was but I see you needed no rescuing. Are you coming to bed?”

Bill feels a touch of guilt; it may be a Friday (actually, Saturday now due to the early morning hours), but Mike still likes to get to bed before 11pm. With the clock being closer to 3am than midnight, Bill had unintentionally disrupted his husband’s routine. He looks sheepishly up at Mike, chin resting on the soft t-shirt hiding what Bill knows is an exquisite body. They’re in their early thirties and, despite their increasingly busy schedules, have made an effort to stay in shape. For Mike, this means weights and yoga. For Bill, a 5-mile bike ride twice a week is enough for him. “I would love nothing more, my darling.” 

They share a soft kiss, Mike towering over Bill where he sits in his high-back faux leather office chair, the muted light of the office enveloping them in soft yellow hues. Mike’s right hand is now buried in Bill’s hair, his fingers tangling themselves in it for a brief moment before he pulls away. 

“We should go to bed, baby.” Mike’s voice is hushed, as if he doesn’t want to disturb the quiet around them. “We were going to get up early but I don’t think that’s part of the plan anymore.”

Bill laughs and stands up, wrapping his arms around Mike’s neck and going on his tiptoes to kiss him again. “We can move our picnic to the afternoon. I need my beauty sleep or else I’ll go even grayer.”

Mike kisses Bill’s scruffy cheek before trailing his lips up to the graying hairs. “I love your gray hair. Maybe I’ll pull a Ben one of these days and write a poem about it.”

Their foreheads are resting together now, their eyes half-closed, noses nearly touching. They laugh, softly and almost breathlessly as Mike crowds in closer, pushing Bill against the wooden desk, being careful to not mess up the papers that cover its surface. It’s late, yes, and they should be on their way down the hall to their bedroom but he can’t bring himself to end this moment. Mike moves to lean down and kiss Bill, planning on taking his sweet time, teasing and nipping at his lips before slipping his tongue inside to explore the mouth he practically has memorized. Before he can move more than a fraction of an inch, Bill is yawning and hiding his face in Mike’s chest, the movement so innocent that Mike can’t even think of asking for more.  _ Tomorrow then _ , Mike thinks before he bends his knees and picks Bill up, loving how it feels when Bill wraps his legs around his waist and his arms around his neck. 

“Bedtime, Bill,” Mike murmurs, walking toward the door to the office, taking care to turn the lights off as he exits. Bill doesn’t respond; he might already be asleep but Mike thinks that he’s just working through some plot element that he had been having trouble with. Bill usually does that before bed and Mike does his best to distract him enough that he can sleep. Most of the time talking to him helps. Sometimes, though, a more physical strategy is needed and Mike would be lying if he said that he wasn’t hoping that was what Bill needed tonight. Yes, it’s late and they have plans for the next day but it’s been a busy week and being intimate would help the both of them. It would be especially helpful to Mike as the space between his legs grows hot with want.

The lights are all off in their house but Mike has no trouble navigating the hallway with Bill wrapped around him; they’ve done this plenty of times that he is more than comfortable walking around in the dark hallway where not even the moonlight can reach. He may not be able to see them but Mike knows that the walls of the hallway are covered in pictures; some of them are just of him and Bill but many of them are of their whole family. 

Their family isn’t a conventional one, to say the least. Mike’s parents were always there for him but once his father died and his mother developed dementia, he found himself relying more and more on his friends. Bill’s family was not great; he likes to say they’re not as bad as Bev or Eddie’s but they’re still pretty bad. Georgie is the best part of Bill’s family, only a few years younger than Bill and doing wonderful in life. It took him a while to learn how to live without the full use of his left arm after an accident when he was six but now Georgie was out in the world, away from their neglectful parents, and thriving as a Speech and Language Pathologist. He was inspired by Bill’s stutter that he had as a child; Georgie had always wanted to help his brother and when Bill had started seeing an SLP, he knew exactly what he wanted to do in life. The rest of their family is made up of their friends: Eddie, Richie, Stan, Patty, Ben, and Bev. They’ve all been close since Georgie’s accident, relying on each other when their parents eventually (or in some cases, consistently) failed them. 

Mike is pulled from his memories by Bill nuzzling into his shoulder and mumbling something he can’t quite make out.

“What was that, honeybee?” Mike keeps his tone soft, trying to preserve the soft quiet that envelops them like a morning fog.

Bill kisses his neck then and Mike feels his knees weaken just the slightest. The feeling of Bill’s chapped lips, his scruff that hints of a beard, against his skin always sends shivers up his spine. Pulling Bill even tighter against his chest, Mike reciprocates as best he can, kissing the shell of Bill’s ear.

“Mikey,” Bill whines, his voice cracking as a delicate yawn cuts him off. His fingers gripping into the soft fabric of Mike’s t-shirt, he rubs his eyes against Mike’s shoulder, trying to clear away their tiredness so he can look at him. “I want you to fuck me.”

Something drops in his gut and Mike has to hold back a moan. They’d talked about this before, Mike fucking Bill as he struggles to stay awake, fucking him as he’s asleep. There was just something so arousing about Bill trusting him while he’s barely conscious, vulnerable, unfocused and something even more arousing at the thought of continuing on, seeking his own release as Bill sleeps. His grip tightens uncontrollably before he catches himself; if this is going to happen, he needs to be careful. Bill needs to stay sleepy, stay comfortable, stay just on the edge of consciousness without anything jarring him, drawing him back into the state he was in mere minutes ago. He has to stay sleepy so no gripping, no biting, not rough movements. Mike needs to keep his touch calming, more caresses than grasps.

Bill nudges his nose into the hollow behind Mike’s ear as he huffs out a tired sigh. “You don’t have to. I just thought…”

“ _ Please _ .” The word rips from his throat in a low growl, the vibrations sending shivers down his back. Mike pushes the door to their bedroom open with his hip, ignoring the lightswitch in favor of gently shutting the door behind him. His legs start shaking the closer he gets to the bed; being intimate with Bill, sharing the delicate parts of himself in this way, always excites him but tonight it’s twofold. He has never had an opportunity to explore this kink, never truly felt he could until Bill. And now it was being handed to him on a silver platter and his knees, god, his knees won’t stop shaking.

Bill’s voice at his ear, the quiet “Baby” that drifts from that sweet, sweet mouth, steadies him. He lays Bill down, crawling over him as he guides his love’s head to the pillow. Bill’s eyelashes are so long, so thick and beautiful, they’re weighing him down, pulling his eyes closer and closer shut. Mike wants to reach out, to touch them, feel how soft and delicate, how featherlike they are along his fingertips.

“Bill,” Mike mouths against the pale expanse of skin just underneath his lover’s jaw. “Bill, my love, my darling.”

Below him, Bill curls, his back arching off the bed as he quietly gasps. His hips roll, the harsh denim of his jeans rubbing roughly, catching against the fabric of Mike’s flannel pajama pants. The quietest moan slips between Bill’s lips before Mike captures them with his own, his teeth teasing at the chapped skin. Bill darts his tongue out briefly before drawing it back; tonight needs more tame, more comforting foreplay than what that will lead to.

“Tell me this is okay, tell me you want this.” Mike’s voice is husky, the lust evident but there’s an underlying tensity that reveals his worry.

Bill reaches up, his eyes still heavy with desire and sleepiness, and caresses Mike’s bearded jaw. “I want this, I want  _ you _ .”

That’s all Mike needs to hear before he drapes himself across Bill’s chest, his hands reaching underneath the fabric of his shirt to tease agile fingertips against his skin. His lips find their place at the base of Bill’s neck, teeth just barely scraping until they’re both gasping in pleasure. Gentle movements, soft tugs and pulls against the clothing somehow still covering their bodies; there is no sound other than the quiet gasps and moans echoing throughout the dark room.

On the edge of sleep, kept awake only by his tender lover who buries his hands, his face into the soft junctions of his body, Bill closes his eyes and revels in the feeling of drifting off, of letting go so completely. He wants to reciprocate, to sink his fingers into the thick muscle that envelops Mike’s back but he’s so tired, so entirely weak in the best of ways. All he can do is lay there, his mind trying desperately to stay conscious even as his body longs to fall unconscious. He feels euphoric, his body and mind conflicting in a way that feels so right. He surrenders to this feeling, allowing himself to enjoy, to savor, to bite down deep into the arousal that grows and grows, tasting its musky flavor. 

“Mike,” he gasps. The button on his jeans is being undone just as expertly as Mike has thoroughly undone him. The zipper is next and the slow, sensuous slide of metal against metal teases him deliciously. He craves more, needs more, and yet it is almost too much. “I want- you need to-  _ god, please hurry _ .”

The pants are somehow down around Bill’s ankles now, followed quickly by his briefs. The newly exposed pale skin makes Mike’s mouth water. He wants to kiss along the curvature of his thigh, to nibble marks of his love into the space where his hips rest, tantalizing with the way they roll up searching for friction. He restrains himself, keeping his kisses gentle and brief, his lovebites no more than momentary tugs of teeth on skin before he moves further down toward his real goal.

Bill’s cock lays nestled among curly, coarse hair. The head is wet, tiny droplets gathered at the tip as evidence of his arousal. Mike’s tongue darts out to lick his lips in anticipation of the taste, something he knows quite well by now. The salty, sticky flavor is one he can’t quite explain, can’t quite understand, but one that he craves nonetheless. As he settles himself between Bill’s thighs, his hands curling over the round curve of his hips, Mike glances up to see that Bill is very nearly asleep and the thought sends a shot of heat down to pool between his legs. Almost reactionary, his tongue darts out again but this time to lick a wet line from the base of Bill’s weeping erection to the tip, his whole body shivering at the taste that now fills his mouth.

A moan from above him brings a soft smile to his face, one that is quickly hidden by the weight of Bill’s cock on his tongue as he slides him deep into his mouth. The slow drag of hot skin against the roof of his mouth makes Mike’s hips push down onto the bed, his boxers wet with desire and anticipation for what is to come. He can feel his body tensing, his hole pulsing in time with the heartbeat he feels against his tongue. He swirls his tongue around the head, his cheeks hollowing out with each stroke of his mouth. Mike can taste the saltiness, taste the sweat and the precum and the want. He digs his fingers into Bill’s sides as he takes him deeper still, burrowing his nose in the thick hair. 

Another broken moan reminds Mike that he is not alone here, that Bill is still present despite his silence, despite his semi-unconscious state. He pulls himself off, mouth feeling empty the moment the cock leaves his mouth.

“Enjoying yourself, honeybee?” Mike’s voice breaks the silence, his soft tone sounding almost too loud in the echoing emptiness of their bedroom.

Bill’s only response is a sleepy moan, his mouth open as he sucks in a deep breath. His eyes are closed, have been since they started, and Mike has to look close, has to carefully examine Bill’s face to see that he truly is still awake, even if it’s just barely. He wants to capture those parted lips between his own, drag moan after moan and gasp after shaky gasp out but he can’t. He can’t ruin this now. He may only get one chance at this so he’ll make it good, for both of them, while he can.

A hand in his hair eases him from his thoughts and pushes him back toward the hard length between his lover’s legs. Bill may be almost asleep but his body knows what he wants and what he wants is Mike’s mouth. For now.

Taking him into his mouth again, Mike slips a hand between his own legs to ease some of the pressure that’s been building since he met Bill in his office. He’s nearly soaked through his boxers, the heat between his legs growing hotter and hotter until he can’t stand it anymore. He needs Bill inside of him, needs to feel that pulsing heartbeat in his wet, tight heat instead of his mouth. He slides away, Bill’s cock slipping from his mouth. Their shirts are still on and Mike doesn’t care; all that matters is how quick he can get his boxers off and Bill’s cock into him.

His boxers land with a thud somewhere on the floor of their bedroom but Mike doesn’t even spare them a glance. He’s too focused on the rise of his hips, on the desperately soft gasp that comes from Bill as he rubs his wet folds against the head of his cock. His whole being is centered on the feeling of that hard length slipping inside him, their heat mingling, mixing, until Mike settles down firm on Bill’s hips. 

Mike spares a glance at Bill, at the telltale signs of unconsciousness. He feels his hole spasm, his body shudder at the sight of Bill’s lips parted, his head rolling to the side as his breaths even out. He lifts his hips slowly, his hands gripping as tightly as he dares on Bill’s waist. Circling his hips as they rise, Mike bites back a groan. Bill isn’t reacting anymore; he’s asleep. All at once, the restraint that has barely been holding Mike back gives out and he sinks back down, his body pulling Bill into him so tightly, so effortlessly that he nearly cries out from relief. He starts up a steady rhythm, keeping the stroke of his hips even and as calm as possible. He doesn’t want to wake Bill, wants to see the face he makes as he comes unconscious, no involuntary facade, no hiding.

The bed squeaks from the strength of Mike’s movements and Mike freezes but Bill doesn’t wake, he only moans softly as his head rolls to the other side. Taking a moment to breath, Mike begins circling his hips again, still fully seated against Bill’s hips. His dick, so sensitive and so wanting, rubs delicately against the hair that surrounds Bill’s cock. He chases the rough drag of the hair against his skin, chases the warmth that radiates throughout his body. Mike feels the tightening of his muscles, feels the stuttering in his hips as he circles them again and again, rubbing his dick harder and harder until, all at once, the dam breaks and his pleasure overflows.

“ _ Bill _ .” It’s nothing more than a gasp, a rough push of air from his lungs yet he can feel the press of the hips beneath him and he smiles. His lover may be asleep but he still wants to cum and who is Mike to deny him that release?

He starts up his rhythm anew, his hips rising and sinking down, pushing Bill closer and closer to release. Mike’s fingernails scratch paths into the skin along Bill’s chest, his waist, the tops of his thighs. As the heat begins to spread from between his slick folds, radiating out from where his lover joins with him, Mike can’t stop himself from moaning, loud and low. He leans forward, his hands pressed down into the mattress to hold himself in balance as he fucks himself on Bill’s dick. The soft slapping of skin resonates through the room and below him Bill stirs, still sleeping despite the shaking of the bed, despite the pull of tight warmth against his cock.

“Bill, Bill, Bi-” Mike cuts off as this new angle drags his dick across the sweat-slick skin beneath him in the sweetest way. He’s close, he’s so close but he wants Bill to cum with him. He wants to feel that hot spurting inside of him as his own body shudders through ecstasy. He wants to pull himself up, off the cock within him, just to feel the evidence of their combined pleasure, to feel Bill’s cum drip from him onto the bed. 

Another stutter of movement from the hips below him, another drag of his dick against skin, another stroke of the cock inside him and he’s tumbling over, pleasure overtaking him and somehow through it all, he can feel Bill’s orgasm tear through his unconscious body as he releases inside of him. 

Mike collapses against the body below him, breath coming in quick, short spurts as he tries to steady himself. His body twitches, shivers from sensitivity and he forces himself up onto his hands and knees, letting Bill’s cock slip loose from his body. Shortly after, he can feel the gentle drip of cum from his hole. As he looks at Bill, still asleep, still so blissfully unconscious, he decides that they can clean up in the morning. For now, he covers the two of them with a clean blanket and curls into Bill’s side, soon joining him in slumber.


End file.
